The Elusive Flame (20 page)

Cerynise fanned herself, feeling decidedly heated by their discussion. Her hiccups didn’t help her discomposure in the least.

“You do know what follows, don’t you?” Beau probed, studying her keenly.

She refused to submit herself to his close scrutiny and, with a casual shrug of her shoulders, strolled across to the
shaving stand. There she could see his face in the mirror without him being aware of it. “Lydia told me some things years ago.”

Beau rolled his eyes in disbelief. “That must have been informative.”

“I know that a man and woman must merge to make a child!” she declared, irritated that he thought her such an innocent. “I’m just not aware how it all comes about exactly.”

“Would you like to know
exactly?
”

Even as inquisitive as she was about it all, Cerynise didn’t think it proper that
he
should be the one to instruct her. “’Tis unseemly for you—”

“Who else has a better right? I
am
your husband.…”

“Not for long, you said.…”

“For the time being, I am,” Beau pointed out, and watched her closely as he added, “But perhaps Alistair can tutor you when you become his ward.”

Cerynise made no effort to hide a convulsive shiver. The revulsion she had felt when Alistair’s eyes had passed over her in a prurient leer came back with startling distaste. “What
exactly
do you think I should know?”

Beau enlightened her in great detail, making it as stimulating to her womanly senses as he was capable of doing. Explaining the act of mating to her was nearly as satisfying as kissing her breasts, he thought, but it would never be as thrilling as the real thing. Still, he’d take what he could get.

When Cerynise faced him in rapt attention, Beau knew he had evoked a comparable sensuality in her. He could feel a familiar tightening in his loins and made no effort to either hide or display that fact. It became obvious enough with his slimly tailored trousers, drawing flitting glances from his wife until she raised her eyes to his and saw his smile. Her cheeks flushed scarlet, and in quick response her gaze went chasing off to the far wall.

“I couldn’t make love to you without that happening,” he explained, for he knew she’d be inclined to think he
was making a deliberate overture. “Despite the control I would like to have over my body at times, I cannot prevent my arousal when I think of being intimate with you.”

“Don’t think,” Cerynise flung over her shoulder, mimicking his earlier dictate to Oaks. “’Tis better for us both if you don’t.”

“You may see it as unfortunate, madam, but I’ve been bequeathed with these manly instincts by nature for the purpose of procreation. ’Tis sure there’d be fewer babies in the world if men weren’t driven at times by their primitive inclinations.”

“Have you informed me of all of this simply for your own pleasure, sir?” she inquired with a hint of sarcasm. “Or did you do so only because you wish me to be thoroughly aware of what the magistrate might ask me? ’Tis apparent that you think I’ll be unable to answer the man unrehearsed.”

Not wanting to arouse his wife’s suspicions more than they were already, Beau carefully avoided her first question. “I just don’t want you to blunder into revealing the fact that I wasn’t able to consummate our marriage.”

Feeling absurdly slighted, Cerynise wished vainly for some witty retort that would impress him. When none came to mind, she argued her case. “I’m not a bumpkin actress who has to be instructed in her repertoire every hour on the hour so she can speak her lines even moderately well.”

Beau eyed her closely. “Then tell me this, if you will, madam. If you have to swear tomorrow that we became man and wife in my bed tonight, can you do it credibly after what I’ve told you?”

She found it difficult to breathe suddenly, for her whole being felt as if it were aflame. “I…I…”

“Come now, Mrs. Birmingham…
if
that’s who you are exactly. You must tell me whether or not you have shared a bed with your alleged husband, because if you cannot swear that your marriage is valid, I’ll have no other recourse but to give you over into Mr. Winthrop’s care.” Beau leaned forward and stared intently into her astounded
visage as he continued his authoritative inquiries in a softer tone. “Now answer me truthfully, Mrs. Birmingham, did you and your husband make love together and consummate your marriage?”

Cerynise was speechless for a moment until she finally blurted, “Surely they wouldn’t be so forward!”

“For whatever purposes he has planned, Alistair is desperate to have you,” Beau averred. “He’ll stop at nothing to get his way. The magistrate, however, will hopefully be a bit more delicate. For his benefit, you must be able to say honestly that we spent tonight together.” He gave an abortive laugh. “Looking the way you do, you shouldn’t have to say anything more than that. The rest will naturally be assumed.”

If Beau had thought she blushed a lot before, then he was quickly learning that it was nothing compared to what she had done within the last hour since their guests had left. “I know this isn’t easy for you, the idea of sharing a bed with me for the night, but frankly, it’s the best solution I can think of for alleviating the problem of you telling a lie. And though I’ll be hard-pressed to withhold my attentions, I promise you I won’t resort to rape.”

Cerynise finally realized the hiccups had fled. No doubt being shocked out of her virginal innocence had squelched that small problem. “If that’s the only thing you can suggest, I guess we should try it for a time…but you’ll have to keep your trousers on.”

Beau smiled. “If you insist.”

His young wife heaved a wavering sigh. “In that case I’d better go and get into my nightclothes.”

“Nothing too enticing, I hope,” he teased.

“You needn’t worry. I’m well aware of just how fast your trousers come off, sir.”

A moment of silence passed between them as each of them entertained memories of what had happened earlier in the day.

“Feeling more relaxed?” Beau finally asked.

Deciding it wouldn’t be wise of her to mention that her
knees seemed to have melted, Cerynise gave him a careful nod. “Yes, thank you.”

Their polite conversation didn’t make it any easier when the time came to go to bed, nor did Beau’s deliberate tarrying at his desk to straighten out his log and all the receipts and documents that had been thrown chaotically about. Cerynise was still wide awake when he doffed everything but his pants and stretched out beside her in his bunk. For a long time they both stared at the ceiling of the cubicle, each unable to ignore the presence of the other. Finally Cerynise curled on her side away from him, but with his weight depressing the mattress on the outer side, it became a struggle to keep her distance. She was just beginning to relax when she felt his large body against her back. She tried to wiggle closer to the wall but found the tail of her nightgown imprisoned beneath him.

“I always thought this was a fair-sized bunk,” Beau commented as he levered himself up slightly to give Cerynise a chance to reclaim the hem of her garment. She scooted over to the wall, but it did little good on an incline. She was soon back where she had started, and much to her chagrin, seemed ever destined to return.

“I could sleep on the floor,” she volunteered.

“Absolutely not. If I have to do something chivalrous, I might as well do it up royally.”

“Well, then, you could—”

“I said chivalrous, not saintly,” Beau retorted, having no doubt that he’d resort to rape before committing himself to the floor.

Cerynise tried to curb her giggles, but they soon raised Beau’s brows to a curious level. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing.”

“Tell me,” he urged.

He was too close, too compelling. Her stomach did a slow, leisurely roll as she realized just how very hard it was for her to thrust him out of her thoughts for longer than a moment. Lying back upon the bed, she cast a glance askance at the broad expanse of his chest, wishing fervently
that she could touch him again in ways that would make him gasp. “Earlier today I was thinking of you as a knight in shining armor. It struck me as funny, that’s all.”

Beau looked appalled. “A knight in shining armor?”

“Only for a moment, but it was pure fantasy. I couldn’t even get you to kiss my hand, and we both know you’ve done much more.…”

“You couldn’t
what?
”

“In my imagination,” Cerynise explained hastily, and then waved a slender hand to hopefully dismiss the discussion. “It doesn’t matter. The idea was absurd anyway. Why don’t we try to get some sleep?”
As if that was remotely possible.

“I’m not sure I like that.”

“What?”

“Not kissing your hand.”

He was right about her being an innocent. It actually took her a moment to recognize where she had neatly led herself. Cerynise almost panicked, having already become aware of the fact that with his charmingly winsome cajolery, he could wheedle his way into a girl’s pantaloons with very little effort. “Beau, don’t.…”

Too late!

Turning her palm upward, he kissed it in a slow caressing way that made her suck in her breath. By the time he raised his head again, the bunk had narrowed alarmingly.

“I don’t think you should have done that,” Cerynise whispered, already feeling the molten heat flowing into her loins.

Beau’s expression was grim. “Neither do I.” Without another word, he fled the bunk, grabbed a blanket from one of the lockers, and returned to the chair at his desk. Cerynise remained where she was. Long moments passed before she had to accept the fact that he did not intend to touch her again. She should have been relieved. Instead, there bloomed a hungry ache deep within her womanly being that yearned to be filled and assuaged.

T
HERE WAS SOMETHING
very intriguing about waking up with a soft, womanly form curled in the curve of one’s body, Beau mused sleepily as he became aware of the very first light of a new day casting its glow through the stern windows. The whole bunk was bathed with a strangely bright, reddish gold aura that gilded everything it touched, making the tawny tresses upon which he lay shine as if with a luster of their own. His wife’s long hair had tumbled across his pillow, and its delicate scent lured him to rub his cheek against the soft curls. But that was not the only enticement he was aware of. His thighs were tucked beneath her trim buttocks, and had he been without his trousers, he might have more fully appreciated the fact that her nightgown had wandered up nigh to her hip, leaving him a view that was breathtaking. His quickening pulse warned him that if he didn’t soon leave her side, he’d be remiss in his promise to her, because he was definitely thinking of waking her with soft, tantalizing caresses.

Carefully he eased away from her and crept across to his shaving stand, where he splashed cold water over his
face. What he needed was a frigid plunge into the river to wrench his mind away from what he was leaving behind in his bunk. In fact, there would just be time enough to indulge himself in a more humane bath in the first mate’s temporary quarters before his crew started stirring. He tossed a glance over his shoulder as he stepped toward the door, then promptly halted, feeling as if he had been hit in the gut. She was still lying in innocent repose upon her side, but the sight of her unclad backside was almost as compelling to his manly senses as a smiling invitation from her lips. He just couldn’t leave her like that when the mate might walk in, unaware of her presence.

Returning quietly to his bunk, he reached across to the far side of the bunk and, lifting the sheet carefully, spread it over her. He stood staring down at her for a long moment, feeling his vitals twisting in knots in his belly as his eyes caressed her delicate features resting in profile against the pillow. For the life of him, he couldn’t resist stroking the backs of his fingers over the wisps of hair curling softly at her temples. A fluttering sigh wafted from her lips, and still deep in slumber, she rolled upon her back, flinging an arm wide across his pillow. It seemed only a momentary lapse of time before her hand started searching for him, and then her eyes flew open and found him leaning over her. Instead of fear sweeping her visage, a smile as sweet as the breaking dawn curved her lips and illumined her eyes.

“Good morning,” she murmured sleepily.

“Good morning, my sweet. I trust you slept well.”

“Amazingly well…
after
you finally came to bed.”

He cocked a brow in surprise. “Madam?”

Giggling, Cerynise shook her head, refusing to answer the question that was implied rather than spoken. Turning on her side away from him, she curled in a knot, muttering something like “Never mind” behind the hand with which she scratched her nose.

“You’re not having second thoughts, are you?” he inquired
hopefully, bracing a hand on her hip as he leaned over her to peruse her profile again.

“Only if you are,” she whispered, biting her bottom lip to keep it from curving upward in a grin. The fact that she was inviting him to accept the lengthy position of being her husband was subtle, but he was keenly astute and had no need of further explanations.

“Oh.”

The single syllable sounded much like a note of dejection, Cerynise thought, abruptly losing her elation. She blinked away a start of tears and, to hide her disappointment, made much of rubbing her nose into her pillow as if it itched. Finally, after clearing her throat and trying to swallow the lump in it, she cast a glance askance to find that he hadn’t moved.

“Would you mind turning your head long enough for me to get out of bed and put on my robe?”

The lilting buoyancy had gone out of her voice, causing Beau to suffer feelings of regret. Although he was intensely aware of just how much he wanted to make love to her, there was still that rational side of him that refused to be herded into a long enduring situation without allowing himself enough time to think everything through very carefully. He knew her from years back, but with their lengthy separation, he could not swear that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her without first becoming acquainted with the woman she had become.

Stepping away from the bunk, he presented his back to her and waited. In the next instant he heard her bare feet padding swiftly toward the door and whirled to see her fleeing through the open portal. A brief moment later he heard the mate’s door slam loudly in the silence.

Gnashing out a curse through gritted teeth, Beau flung his own door closed, ending the pleasantry of the morning.

Beau wasn’t overly impressed with the magistrate who was ushered aboard by Alistair Winthrop and Howard Rudd. The judge was a stout, florid-faced individual who
seemed pompously aware of his own importance, and it was evident from the amount of bowing and scraping the two unworthies did in his presence that they were vying for his favor. Indeed, they seemed confident of it as they bade Beau to call Cerynise up to the deck.

“You will see, Your Honor, that this Yankee has taken advantage of an innocent young woman and enticed her to forget her proper upbringing,” Alistair assured the judge from as near as his elbow. “Having been ensconced on his ship for some days now, one must wonder what she has already given over to the rascal.”

Mr. Oaks had been summoned to fetch the lady, and when she arrived, the deck grew hushed as the sailors halted their labor to watch what promised to be an exciting confrontation. Confident grins were worn by those wagering that their captain could handle the judge as well as the two pipsqueaks who were with him.

Cerynise moved with elegant grace across the deck and arrived at her husband’s side before facing the three. The fact that Beau’s steadying arm came around her helped to buttress her for the task ahead.

“You see!” Alistair declared, thrusting a finger toward the couple. “This blackguard even has the effrontery to handle the girl in your presence. I told you he was a lecherous scoundrel!”

“Yes, I see,” the magistrate mused aloud, flicking his bushy brows upward. The girl was delectable enough to tempt the most staid gentleman, so it was understandable that she would arouse the attentions of a lusty, seafaring man. “Perhaps the lady and I should be introduced.…”

Alistair stepped forward to do the honors. “Miss Cerynise Kend—”

“Excuse me,” Beau interrupted curtly, “but I think I’d better make the introductions, since this is my ship.”

The thin man sneered, unable to see what difference that made, but he bowed mockingly, permitting the captain to perform the services.

“Cerynise, this is the Right Honorable Judge Blakely,”
Beau said, and as she dipped into a polite curtsy, he swept his hand toward her, “Your Honor, this is my wife, Mrs. Birming—”

“
What?
” Alistair croaked in outrage.

A twitter of amusement ran through the crew, and elbows were prodded as the men waited to see what would follow.

“This is my wife, Mrs. Birmingham,” Beau repeated for the benefit of the magistrate.

The cords in Alistair’s neck became visibly distended as he stretched it far out of his collar and railed, “He’s lying!”

The official looked perplexed. “But I thought she was—”

“This is too much!” Alistair flared, this time rising on tiptoes to shake a fist threateningly beneath the captain’s nose. “Just who the hell are you trying to dupe?”

Beau calmly reached into his coat and removed a folded parchment which he handed over to Judge Blakely. “I’m sure you’ll find everything in order, sir.”

“This is a recent marriage,” Blakely stated, studying the document and paying particular attention to the signatures. Then he peered up at his host with blatant suspicion. “Are there any witnesses?”

“Every man of my crew, sir.”

“Can’t have married her,” Howard Rudd broke in. “The girl is underage! Without permission from her guardian, the marriage isn’t legal!” Bobbing his head like a child who was wont to gloat, he smirked at Beau in triumph.

“Cerynise’s guardian is deceased,” Beau rejoined as if he had never heard the man, directing his attention instead to the magistrate. “Besides, the officiating clergyman was fully aware that Cerynise is a few months short her eighteenth birthday. Under the circumstances, he saw no reason to object.”

“Under what circumstances?” Blakely queried.

“I’m about to set sail for the Carolinas,” Beau informed
him. “Naturally, I meant for the young lady to accompany me.”

“As your wife, you mean,” the judge mused aloud, leveling a pointed stare upon the younger man.

“Exactly.”

Alistair glanced between the two men, all of his senses alert to the fact that shortly after Cerynise’s appearance, the judge had seemed to vacillate between the two entities that strove to possess her, as if the elder only wanted to do the right thing by her. That idea certainly didn’t bode well for his claims. “None of this makes any difference,” Alistair insisted, overly loud. “The marriage can’t be valid unless it’s sanctioned by her guardian! And since I’ve been given that authority, Cerynise must return home with me.”

Blakely turned a perturbed stare upon the lanky man. “I can hear you better if you don’t shout in my ear, sir.”

The corners of Beau’s lips quivered as he struggled to subdue his amusement. His sparkling eyes passed on to Rudd, who seemed suddenly petulant.

The magistrate bestowed a fatherly gaze upon the girl. “Miss…your pardon…I mean, Mrs. Birmingham. I hope you’ll understand that my duty is to make certain that nothing untoward is happening here.”

The gracious smile she bestowed upon him belied her desperation and did much to win his approval. “I understand, Your Honor. However, I must confess that I’m bemused because Mr. Winthrop has dared to pretend any interest in my welfare when I’ve seen no evidence of such.…”

Alistair opened his mouth to argue, but Blakely held up a hand, forestalling him. “He claims to be your guardian.”

Cerynise scoffed. “I would soon perish with such a guardian as he has proven to be. Indeed, he threw me out of Mrs. Winthrop’s home without cloak or coin. I very nearly froze to death, and now he’s back here claiming to want only my good. ’Tis a farce if I’ve ever come across one.”

“He has presented a codicil to his aunt’s will which
places you in his care,” Blakely informed her, eyeing her closely.

She met his probing gaze unwaveringly as she calmly inquired, “Is there much difference between a farce and a forgery, Your Honor?”

Alistair snarled and stepped forward as if to lay hand upon her, but Beau swept her safely to the far side of him and lifted a mocking brow as he met the thin man’s seething glower. “Perhaps you’d like to discuss this at length after the judge leaves,” he suggested. “I’m open to pistols or fists, if you’re of such a mind.”

“Now, now, we’ll have none of that,” Blakely barked.

“The girl is lying, Your Honor,” Alistair insisted. “She is set on going with this rake, despite the fact that he will probably fling her aside once he reaches his home port.”

“Your wife has laid serious charges against this man,” the judge informed Beau.

“Are they any less serious than Mr. Winthrop’s efforts to challenge the legality of our marriage? Now tell me, Your Honor, what would a father do for his daughter in this situation? If you have daughters, perhaps you can instruct us.”

“I have three, Captain. In fact, my youngest is the same age as your wife.”

“What would be your reaction to any notion that a young lady can be married by a properly ordained clergyman, in full view of a crew of men, and spend the night with her husband only to be told the next day that she is not, in fact, lawfully wed?”

Blakely flung up a hand even higher when Alistair tried once again to interrupt. Then he cleared his throat and blustered over his answer. “I’d be set to see that they’re properly wed if they’re not already.”

He hesitated a moment, and then looked at Cerynise. “I beg your pardon, Mrs. Birmingham, but I do have to ask. Were you and Captain Birmingham together last night?”

A hush seemed to settle over the deck as everyone
awaited her answer. She caught as many as three glances cast surreptitiously at her, but they were hastily averted. Despite the fact that Beau had warned her, she found the situation acutely embarrassing, but at least she could tell the man the truth, even if it was with a blush. “Yes, Your Honor, we were together last night.” And then, because she was completely fed up with Alistair and his claims, she added for good measure, “In the same bed.”

That seemed more than the judge needed to hear. His face was quite red when he faced Beau. “My apologies for having disturbed you, Captain Birmingham.” He settled his top hat snugly upon his head. “Have a pleasant voyage home.”

Alistair stared after the magistrate in burgeoning disbelief as that one made his way toward the gangplank. “You don’t mean…You can’t…You mustn’t let this blackguard get away with this!”

Judge Blakely paused near the plank and turned to peer over a shoulder at Alistair. “Captain and Mrs. Birmingham have given every evidence of being lawfully married, sir. You’ll not find another judge in all of England who’ll say otherwise. ’Twould be a disgrace if any did. I’m afraid you’ll just have to accept that, Winthrop.”

“Why, you arrogant heap of slime!” Alistair railed back at him. “You should be denied access to the bench!” Shaking off Rudd’s restraining hand, he wheeled on Beau, his fury rising to heights that shocked everyone around him. “And as for you, you bastard! You may feel like a cock of the walk now, but I assure you I won’t let you get away with this travesty.…”

Beau’s eyes squinted dangerously as he fixed a glare upon the thin man. “What did you call me?”

Unaware of the peril he was in, Alistair shook a fist at the captain and gratified himself by enlarging upon his earlier slur. “A stinking bastard! A filthy, lying Yankee bastard who—”